Love's Difficulties
by Rowan Lyneth
Summary: Years after World War II, Italy realizes he harbors affections for his ex-allies, Germany and Japan. The nation knows that in order to keep his friends he must choose before confessing, thus making him a nervous wreck. Germany and Japan, oblivious to the Italian's feelings, worry over their fleeing friend and wish to help. Though, they find themselves helping each other as well.
1. Difficulties

**A/N: Hi! Welcome to _Love's Difficulties_! To give you a warning, this is _threesome yaoi_, so if you don't like, please.. I beg you... don't read! Otherwise, enjoy!**

**Storyline- Rowan Lyneth (AKA me!)**

**Hetalia- Himapapa! ... Hidekaz Himaruya, if you prefer to call him that... I just think Himapapa is easier to say... **

**Yeah, I don't own much but the storyline... so please don't sue me... I'm poor. **

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**Difficulties**

Feliciano stood at the kitchen counter, head rested on the cool, marble top. The Italian faced a dilemma. He felt cliche and animated, much like a character from one of his friend's, Kiku's, manga.

He never thought love triangles were real, just something to add drama into shows. Though, now that he was living one, he had no choice but to believe it, realizing that he was the one who was going to have to choose.

Yes, Feliciano Vargas, the very personification of the boot-shaped country of Italy, was infatuated with two people. Who are these people you ask? Since he was a country, it can be safely assumed that the two were countries as well. So, France and Spain? Seemed likely. Both countries had strong effects on the Italian's growth. But no, Feliciano only had brotherly respect for the two. England and America? Don't make him laugh. Those two weren't even in his league, and, yes, he did think that. The sweet boy never would admit it, but he _knew_ that his cooking was superior to both of the aforementioned countries'. He would never downright say he was better though, it wasn't in his nature to. Cutting to the chase, Feliciano had major crushes on both of his former-allies, Germany and Japan.

Perhaps crush and infatuation aren't the right words. Italy fully believed that he was in love with the two countries. He felt so safe in Ludwig's arms. He loved the random moments that the German would give him a smile. He adored Kiku's accent when he spoke English, the way he made every word sound "Kawaii" as he would say. Feliciano couldn't help bit giggle whenever Japan would get all flustered over western customs and say its inappropriate. Each man had infinite amounts of things that Feliciano could, would, and did love about them that choosing between the two was almost too difficult. Scratch the almost, it WAS too difficult.

Also, the fact that both of them were his best friends made it all the more worse.

He didn't want to lose his friends, so he kept his growing feelings a secret from both of them. However, it was getting harder and harder to hide his emotions, so he knew he'd have to come clean eventually. He just didn't want to have to admit he liked them both. There was no way that'd be a safe idea. So, he decided he would have to choose, so that way, when he came clean, he would only lose one friend instead of two. Though, he preferred not to lose either.

So, there he stood, contemplating and tearing up from stress. There was a loud _beep_, and Feliciano broke out of his stupor. He ran to the pasta on the stove and took the lid off the pan before the contents boiled over.

Feliciano sighed. This was going to be a difficult week.

* * *

"Ja, ja. I get it." Germany sighed as his boss pestered him about more paperwork over the phone. He was exhausted from all the work he was set to do. Running a hand through his sleeked back, blonde hair, Ludwig sat down at his desk and commenced working, listening to the irritating voice of his complaining boss as he did so.

After a good ten minutes, he was able to hang up the phone. He sighed in relief, blue eyes closing, trying to relax. The silence was somewhat nice for a change. It had been so long since he had time to himself and room to think. He usually had a chatty Italian next to his ear, taking up all his thinking space. Yes, he was fully capable of zoning out of the Italian's chattering, but the fact of Feliciano's habit of public display of affection and close contact simply sent Germany's temperature over the edge and caused not entirely unwanted thoughts to break the surface of his conscience.

Ludwig had gained an... Emotional attachment to his smaller ally, as he would call it. He refused to believe it was any more than that because he knew where love can take you. Sometimes it can bring happiness and joy, bit the German wasn't so lucky. Due to the final events of World War II, his love was taken away, almost ripped from him. The two tried the secret Romeo and Juliette trick, but, having failed miserably, our dear blond Romeo was sent back to Germany without any hopes of the relationship continuing.

He shook his head. No, he wasn't going to have any repeat of that. He was fine being a celibate country. Whilst the rest went out and had fun, he would just stick to drinking with his brother.

_Mein Gott... was has mein life come to?_

Ludwig slowly set to completing his paperwork. With the thoughts of Italy and his past lover running through his head, he couldn't concentrate. He wondered where the Italian had been, the Italian he knew. Typically, the (ironically) older nation had the impeccable timing as to call him just as he started his work, begging to talk, hang out, or to have help with something ridiculous. For about a week Germany had been free. True, he enjoyed the quiet, but that never meant he didn't worry.

As if on cue, his desktop phone rang. He answered it, secretly hoping it was Italy.

_"Konnichiwa, Ludwig-san." _the soft voice resonated through the black phone.

Ludwig smiled, his heart calming from the anticipation of it being Italy. Even though the two were 'just friends', the Japanese man always had a way of calming Ludwig down.

"Ja, hello Kiku."Germany responded. "What's up?"

_"Sorry if I'm disturbing your work. I was just calling to see if you knew what was wrong with Italy-kun?" _Japan said, a hint of worry in his tone.

Germany sighed. "I was just thinking about that now, actually."

_"So you don't know." _

"Nein, I haven't talked to him since Sunday when he practically forced me to have Sunday brunch with him."

_"Same here, but he forced me to his church service instead of brunch." _Ludwig chuckled. He could hear the tone of irritation in the Asian's voice. He knew how much the nation hated it when other people tried to convert him. America had already tried it, obviously failing.

_"What's so funny?" _

"Oh, nothing."

A silence followed. Ludwig reclined back in his chair in thought, listening to Kiku's soft breathing through the phone.

"You know," he said after a while, "we could go check up on him. As far as I know he's home alone right now. He might like the company."

_"H-hai. That sounds good. When should we go though? I'm just sitting here doing nothing. My boss has neglected to give me work."_

Ludwig gave a dark chuckle. "Lucky. Mein boss has given me enough work to keep the fires of hell burning."

_"You sound like your having fun." _the German could have sworn the speaker had a hint of amusement in his tone.

"Ja. How about we visit him tomorrow? I'll be done with most of the work by then."

_"Hai, Ludwig-san. I will prepare myself. Sayonara."_

"Auf Wiedersehen."

With that, Germany hung the phone back up. For the rest of the night he pounded at the paperwork, but he just couldn't concentrate. With the prospect of visiting the Italian in his head, he felt as if tomato-fairies were cooking pasta in his brain, completely distracting him.

He really needed to get a better grip on his sanity.


	2. Manga, Pasta, and Advice

**Hello, all! So, I added drama to the genre listings. The reason? For what I have planned... It's gonna be a hell alotta emotional drama. ... That sentence I just wrote looks and sounds stupid... why did I write that.  
**

**Well, say "Hey!" to Yao and Lovino for making "guest appearances" in this chapter! Actually, they may be a major part in the story... may be... **

**Also, I know Germany's side isn't in this chapter. But he will be back next chapter! I promise!**

**I think that's all, so, enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

**Manga, Pasta, and Advice**

Yao looked at his brother in concern. The Japanese man had been reading a lot of manga lately, which was usual. But the manga in question happened to be Shoujo... The really girly kind. While Yao felt it was normal of the Otaku nation, he also found it quite... Unsettling? He wasn't sure. He just knew something was up.

"Kiku? Can I ask you something?" the Chinese man asked from his position under the kotatsu table.

"Hm?" Brown eyes never left the page they were glued to. Yao's mouth twisted at this.

"You keep reading all this manga. Usually it doesn't bother me but right now it does. Why are you reading so much girly manga, aru?"

Kiku looked up at this, only to send the older nation a stony glare. China flinched, but not much. The brown haired man laughed and scratched the back of his neck out of nervousness.

"It's not girly." Japan replied. "What even makes you say it is?"

"Well, you've been reading a lot of manga that is... How you say... Shoujo... Recently, aru. Not really that manly." was the impetuous explanation.

"Shoujo manga is not necessarily girly."

"Girls falling head over heels for boys and wearing frilly dresses? I call that girly, aru."

There was no arguing. Japan shook his head. He should really learn to just let the other man be right sometimes.

Without thinking, he informed his friend, "This is not Shoujo, by the way."

"Oh really? What is it?"

_Why did I have to say that? _Kiku cursed himself under his breath, pulling the book closer to his face. As he did so, the make-shift, paper cover began to shift and slip off. The Japanese man scrambled to put it back on before anything showed, but it was too late.

"Hey! What was that, aru?" China made a grab for the book, but Japan held it above his head and out of reach. "Aw, come on! Can't you show your older brother, aru?"

Brown eyes narrowed, and Kiku snapped, "Why do you want to see what I'm reading so badly?! I didn't invite you over for my personal space to be compromised!" He was ignored however as his guest promptly reached across the table, climbing over the blanketed surface and fell of top of him, snatching for the book.

"Nngh! Got it!" Yao cheered as he ripped the manga from his brother's hands. He sat up on his knees, straddling the younger man's waist. Though, he didn't seem to care; he was more interested in what was inside the book.

Whilst Kiku blushed and tried to wiggle out of the awkward position, the brunet slipped off the hand-made, white, paper cover to the manga book and blinked at the image on the front. "I'm confused," he noted, "Why is there a picture of two shirtless guys on the front, aru?" This only made the black-haired man blush more and stretch his arms upward, trying to take back his book. No avail, Yao leaned back, farther out of the shorter man's reach, making the position only even more awkward by adding pressure to Kiku's abdomen. The said person groaned in anxiety and helplessness.

A chuckle came from above. "Well, well, Japan. I didn't know you swung this way, aru."

Embarrassment drowned Japan; his face glowed red as the blood rushed to it, causing heat to radiate at such a high temperature that China even noticed it. Once again, he chuckled. The younger nation covered his face with his slender hands in attempt to hide the blush.

All was silent for a good few minutes. One could call it empty and awkward, and awkward it was; but empty? It was not. One man developed a smirk on his face, aura emitting the pride of success and power. The power of learning a valuable secret and the amount of control that came with it. But more so, the success was based off gaining a leg in a brotherly relationship, and the possibility of being able to bond through this one shared secret. The other man's aura held a hint of fear, nervousness, and anger. Fear of the knowledge the secret was out, nervousness on the fact that China of all people knew the secret, and anger… anger over the fact that his personal space was being compromised over petty curiosity.

Finally, Kiku spoke.

"Will you please get off me." It was more of a demand than a request; nonetheless, Yao complied.

Kiku sat up, hand on his back from the pain he gained from being forced into such a position. He glanced up to see his brother sitting cross-legged in front of him, gazing at him with big, honey-brown eyes. Those eyes were responded to with a blank stare.

_He wants something. _

"What?" the question was somewhat edged with irritation, but Kiku really didn't care at this point.

"So who is it?"

"What?" It was Kiku's turn to be confused.

Yao opened the manga up to show Kiku a double page panel of the two main male characters laying, naked, in bed together, kissing passionately. "Who is the guy you want to do this to?"

Kiku's dark brown eyes widened and his pale face flamed as he jumped back in shock. "Kyah!" A hand shot up to his mouth and he gave a squeaky, muffled reply, "Y-Y-Yao-san! Don't be waving such things around! It's inappropriate!"

His brother raised an eyebrow, and his smirk grew. "Well, Kiku? Who is it, aru? Wait. Or is it you want _him_ to do this to _you_?"

"Yao-san!"

"Well, who is it, aru?"

"It is no one!"

"Then are you reading it for yourself, aru? Didn't know you were into that kind of thing, aru."

"No! That-That's disgusting!"

"Then there is someone! I knew it, aru!"

"I said there is no-"

"Is it Italy?"

Yao cut Kiku off before he could finish. At this question, Kiku's mouth hung open, loosely like a koi fish mouth. The question was so abrupt and blunt that his mind went numb before he could search for an off-hand answer that involved the query being too personal. Another silence separated the two, but this one was short-lived. A dark snigger erupted from the Chinese man's lips.

"So, I was right."

Kiku closed his mouth and shook his head. He gazed at the dark, wood floor to his right, avoiding eye-contact with his brother. There was no more hiding it, or denying it. It was the truth. The Asian country had a crush on the Italian. It wasn't immediate, like love at first sight. The feeling grew like a flame from a small, small ember.

Today, his feeling was much stronger than when they had first met. Kiku had no romantic feeling whatsoever before he met the bubbly man, and he refused for the longest time to have any. He brushed off the weird tingly sensation in the pit of his stomach whenever Feliciano would hug him, claiming them to be nerves from the cultural difference and that being his first time. Whenever the auburn haired Italian would prance around naked, like he did so often, Kiku would sign off the blush as embarrassment for his ally and navigate the inappropriate thoughts elsewhere. It wasn't until his experience with his first (and, now, ex) lover that he understood the feelings he had for the Italian and accepted it. Sadly, he resorted to hiding the feeling due to the failure of his past love. He decided that fantasies would just have to do.

The Japanese man sighed. Quietly, he stuttered out, "H-how did you know?"

This time, instead of a smirk, a warm smile kissed his older brother's lips. "The big tip off was the fact that every time you two are together, and he hugs you, you don't push him of immediately. You still do that to me, aru, so it wasn't that hard to tell something was up." He snickered when Kiku pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. "But other than that, I'm your big brother. It's just something I can tell, aru."

"I highly doubt that."

Yao just grinned. He could see the black-haired male curling back into his shell. After isolating himself for so long, he was glad to see him reaching out more. Sure, there was that one time, but outside interferences were too strong for his little brother to actually have a _good _experience with first love. Now that the times had changed and everything seemed relatively peaceful, the shy nation might be able to get somewhere substantial in the field of love.

_Perhaps I might be able to get adoptive nieces and nephews out of this. I do believe there are some micro nations up for adoption…_ He zoned out. Thoughts swimming in his head, he attained a blank look on his face. This shot beads of worry into the blue veins beneath Kiku's pale skin. He really didn't want to know what his strange older brother was thinking, but he had to ask if only to snap him out of his fantasy.

"Yao-san?" No response. "Yao-san?" Silence. "China-san?" Nothing, nada, zilch. The man in question was stuck in his reverie so bad that he began to drool a bit. _Good grief! _Japan snapped his fingers in front of the opposite male's face, shouting, "Yao-san! For the love of Kami-sama, wake up!"

The trick worked. China woke up, wiped his mouth of the slithering drool, and gave him a large smile. But, the next thing to come out of the Chinaman's mouth was what he expected… but didn't.

"So, when do you plan on confessing, aru?"

Kiku flinched and covered his warming nose and cheeks with his left hand. He shook his silky, yet fluffy, head and responded with a squeak, "Is _that _what you were daydreaming about?!"

"Actually, no," China's response was almost too blunt for Japan to handle, "I was daydreaming about what came after, but you have to confess first before I can get any nieces or nephews."

"Ch-China-san! It's rude to imagine such things about someone else!"

The Japanese man's words were ignored however, as the other continued his little rant. "Oh! Aren't you and Germany visiting him later today, aru? You can do it then! Just find something to distract Germany and lure him away! If you want me to, aru, I can come and-" this was where the Asian nation lost it. With his right hand balled into a fist, he whacked his brother upside the head. China flinched and grabbed his head, a large knot forming where Japan hit. "OW! What was that for, aru?"

It didn't seem like it, nor did it sound like it, but Japan steamed. "I'll confess when I'm good and ready. And you aren't coming to Italy's house with me and Germany-san."

He received a playful glare from the older nation. "Fine. As long as I get some more babies to take care of after this, aru."

Japan sweat-dropped. "I can't make any promises." There was a pause, one man beaming at the other, until the quiet Kiku came to a realization. "Also, Yao-san?"

"Yes, aru?"

"Don't make any mention of this to Im Yong Soo."

Both men shivered. The thought of what could happen in their younger brother found out was, admittedly, terrifying.

"Of course, aru."

* * *

Feliciano sniffed as he took another bite of his pasta. Usually, spaghetti and meatballs would cheer him up instantly, but today was not the case. He had been feeling down, so he asked (more like begged) his brother, Lovino, to cook him something pasta. He didn't care what kind as long as it was a form of his feel-good food that was put in his mouth. Lovino, begrudgingly, made the early dinner and gave it to the Italian, but the so-called remedy was failing.

"God, idiota. If it wasn't going to make you feel any better, why did you ask me to make it?" Lovino complained.

Feliciano sniffled yet again. "I thought it _would_ though, Fratello. _Mio dio!_ If pasta isn't helping, then I don't know what will!"

Lovino sighed as his brother face-planted into the table, luckily after he pushed the pasta to the side. He hated the fact that just because his brother was upset, he had to deal with the consequences. "Tell me, what the hell is wrong, idiota." Much to Veneziano's surprise, his brother's words sounded much softer than he expected.

Rubbing his watery eye, the northern half of Italy swallowed. "Really, Romano? You'll listen?" he gave a hopeful pout, causing his brother to fluster.

"S-si! Now, just tell me before I change my mind!"

Feliciano chuckled at his brother's tsundere actions. With a small, sad smile, the Italian opened his mouth to speak, but the words never came. He sat there, contemplating how to put what he was wanting to say to his brother. Lovino made an impatient grunt, cueing Feliciano to freak out and try to hurry his brain to make his feelings click with the functions of sound and syllable making in his cranium.

"I-I… I just… it's difficult." The amber eyed man exhaled. "Ve, Fratello?"

Head resting in his palm, Lovino responded, "Si?"

There was a pause and an intake of breath. "Have you ever loved someone, but never had the courage to tell them?"

Lovino blinked. The question shocked him, he'd admit. He didn't really expect something so direct from the usually bubbly nation. Sure, the man would speak without thinking most of the time (Lovino did that himself), but with such a touchy topic, beating around the mulberry bush was typically the auburn's strategy when speaking. A bit of a confliction, but everyone contradicts their own personality in something, yes?

As he could feel his face beginning to take on a light pink hue, the dark brunet Italian looked down to his right, stuttering, "W-why do you ask something like that bluntly, i-idiota!? I really have no clue what you are talking about."

Cocking his head to the side, Feliciano gave a questioning hum. "Well, then, how did you confess to big brother Spain?"

Amber eyes widened, "W-what are you talking about?! The tomato-bastard and I _are not_ dating!"

"Fratello, I never said anything about you two _dating_, just _you confessing_." There was a pause; a light chuckle from the northern half of Italy filled it instantly. "And besides. The walls aren't that thick. I _do have ears_ you know." Romano's face began to blush a deep scarlet. "That reminds me. Isn't Antonio coming over tonight?" It was this simple question that caused Veneziano to get a tomato to the face. "F-fratello!? What was that for?!"

"Stop saying such awkward things, bastard!"

With a pout, Feliciano wiped his face of the gooey, red, tomato juices and returned to his pasta. He supposed he wasn't going to get an answer from his hot-headed brother any time soon. Sighing, he succumbed to his own thoughts.

Was there any chance of either of them liking him back? … Honestly, he had no clue. Germany still acted like Germany, and Japan still acted like Japan. He couldn't even catch a hint of any returning affection. Or maybe that was it? Maybe he was even worse at reading the atmosphere than he usually was.

_Well, I'm not as bad as America…_

Speaking of America, he wondered if the tough nation would even let Japan date. The two seemed to get really close after WW2 (to put it lightly), and Italy noticed how much Japan started doing for the blond. The two seemed almost inseparable. Was it still that same way, today? The war had ended little over seventy years ago; was Kiku still under Alfred's tyranny? Or was it even that sort of relationship?

Feliciano didn't know. He just remembered feeling abnormally uncomfortable whenever he saw the American and the Japanese sitting next to each other during world conferences. He also remembered getting terribly irritated whenever Japan would agree with the idiotic ideas of the "hero". Feliciano knew that Kiku would never agree to such ideas on his own. It had to be a forced decision. The black-haired male never approved of any of _his_ ideas when they fought together as the Axis, especially pasta influenced ones. As the war progressed, Italy did learn how many of his ideas were ridiculous (excluding the pasta ones… he still believed those were completely legit), so seeing Kiku agree with _"America-san"_ happened to be the breaking point in which Italy realized how jealous he was. He felt his face begin to burn with the mere thought.

And what about Germany? Would he even date? He didn't seem the type. Feliciano never even seen the man _with a girl_, let alone another _man_. He had to admit, the Italian had ore faith in trying to get Kiku than he did with trying to get Ludwig. Whilst the Asian did avoid physical contact, the German just seemed untouchable, cold… even more of a virgin than Italy was. He never thought so when he first met Ludwig that day he tried to be a tomato box fairy, in fact, the man seemed to be the exact opposite. So forceful and determined, the blue eyed man was definitely a catch. He acted as if he knew everything about the world, and had experienced a lot. He didn't seem so… innocent. But, as the friendship progressed, Italy learned it to be the exact opposite. Germany may know things, but he didn't _know_ things. Physically, he was definitely innocent.

But this fact alone was what caused Italy to fall hard. It was almost comforting to know that he wasn't the most innocent out there. Also, his mischievous side kicked in. He typically compared Ludwig to snow. After the first snowfall of the winter season, you could look outside and see a pristine, perfect, blanket of white covering the ground. It would be so perfect, so innocent… so helpless. Children, adults alike always have to fight the urge to go out there and, to put it simply, _fuck it up._ After a good while of seeing the stronger man in this light, this was the exact urge Italy faced every day.

It was sad. Sometimes the Italian wondered if he only _lusted_ after Ludwig and only _loved_ Kiku. It seemed that way many times. For months he did daily tests to see if this was an accurate assumption, but the results never were the same. One day, it wasn't just accurate, it was precise; another day, it would be flipped, lusting after Kiku while loving Ludwig; and sometimes he just couldn't tell. So, to put is mind at ease, he told himself he loved them both, just he had different reactions with each man in different situations.

There was a vile scraping sound, high pitched and grainy. Snapping out of his reverie, Feliciano found he had eaten all of the pasta on his plate without realizing it.

"Aww… I didn't even get to taste it…" he whined under his breath.

Lovino grunted. "That's what you get for zoning out like that."

Italy moved his gaze in front of him. Lovino sat at the table, resting his head in his palm, a bored twinkle in his eyes. "Oh. You still here?"

The southern Italian's orbs grew wide with shock and hurt. He face-planted into the table, making a noise that sounded like: "Gack!" after a moment, the sound of his muffled, irritated, sad sigh drifted to Feliciano's ears. "Chigiii… Bastard." At this, the so-called "bastard" laughed awkwardly.

They sat in silence for a while, neither of them knowing what to say. Feliciano hated the times when the conversation would just drop between the two and neither could retrieve it. Not only was it cumbersome, but it was also annoying. He enjoyed it when he and his bother could actually talk. Little did he know that the silence bothered Lovino even more.

Lovino avoided eye contact, and stared at the tabletop. "I didn't necessarily confess. I just walked up and asked him out." Feliciano cocked an eyebrow up, slightly curious and confused. "At first the tomato-bastard thought it was to just have drinks together like old friends. He ended up getting drunk and confessing to me first. The man was so wasted I had to take him to his house and let him sleep. Ironically he woke up with a hangover and actually remembered what he said the night before. I really didn't expect that. He apologized for saying he loved me."

Feliciano's mouth twisted with concern. "What did you do then?"

Lovino sighed. "I took the plunge. I told him not to worry about it, that I loved him too. That's when he got I had asked him out on a date. You see, we didn't go to any old bar, we went to _Rossellini's_."

Italy sweat-dropped. "That's fancy."

"I know right? How the bastard couldn't guess the first time, I'll never know."

_Who knew big brother was so dense…_ Feliciano thought. _He makes America seem… well, okay. There's no way I can make a comparison out of that. America is still pretty dense. _

"Veneziano?" the said man's attention snapped back to his brother. "Just remember something. Even if you aren't courageous enough to say anything, just take the plunge. It's like ripping off a Band-Aid. Do it quickly and it won't sting as bad. Just do it." _I wonder who it is, he's thinking about. _Lovino thought to himself. His heart picked up pace as he thought of his brother being in love with someone. If he was asking _him_ for advice, like it seemed, he must really be having a hard time. He didn't want to see his brother hurt. "One other thing. Whoever it is you want to confess to, do it soon, or it may be too late."

They made eye contact for the first time during Lovino's speech. He watched Feliciano's petal-like lips curve up into a small smile. His eyes glistened with sad glee. "Thank you," the younger brother muttered. Lovino returned the smile with one of his own, rare smiles that were full of affection. He furrowed his brows when he saw Feliciano frown again.

"Hey, Lovino? Was Spain your first love?" he asked, up to the neck in curiosity.

The addressed man sat up straight and heaved a sigh. "Not… exactly." There was a questioning noise. "He was my first and third."

Feliciano fell back in his chair and his mouth hung. "_Cosa?!_ What do you mean?"

"I loved him when I was a little country under his charge, but he did know that. After I grew up, I didn't think he would care for me as anything other than a subordinate, so I abandoned those feelings. I fell in love again and it lasted for a long time… but I never had the courage to confess." There was a pause as Lovino shook his head. "The next thing I know, he's falling in love with someone else. I had to let that love go too."

"Then one night as I was venting to the tomato-bastard about it, he said something and for some odd reason my heart started thumping. It stayed after that. But, I never really forgot my second _amore_. He's still there, I just know it was too late for me." After the monologue was finished, Lovino glanced back at Feliciano. There was a small, comfortable silence between the two as they sat at the round table, ginning at one another.

"Ve~ you must be really comfortable with me, Fratello! You've been smiling and talking to me and not always calling me names! You never open up like that!" As Feliciano spoke, Lovino's smile dissipated and a scowl replaced it. A _clang!_ was heard and the lighter haired Italian held his head tightly. "Ow! What was that for?! And where did you get Miss Elizaveta's frying pan?!"

"You ruined the moment, idiota!" The grumpy Italian was replied to with a whine. Feliciano looked up at him with big, cute, eyes. "What!" he snapped.

Italy grinned. "Lovi~! _Ti voglio bene_!"

Romano flinched and flushed. Looking to his left, he muttered out, "…_Ti voglio bene_."

* * *

**Translations if needed:  
**

_**Cosa:**_**What?**

_**Ti voglio bene: **_**I love you/I care for you ****to a family member**


End file.
